The Hellish Nightmare World of Jacob Peralta
by Embodiment-Of-Fear
Summary: (Crossposted to Wattpad/Ao3) "I didn't want to!" "You didn't want to what?" "Kill myself!" "Then tell me why there's a godforsaken SUICIDE NOTE in my printer JACOB!" "Because I've got people to protect. You, Amy, the prescient, I'm not letting them die if I can do something about it." Jake's dad has a God Complex per say, but when things get abusive, Holt steps in and helps.
1. RotTheBrain, PoisonTheHeart BreakTheSoul

(Notes: This chapter takes place before he goes to Canada but after dinner with his dad. An emergency case pops up and he is forced to take it before finishing his dad's. This entire five-shot will alter the events between Captain Peralta and the season 2 finale. Trigger warnings for drinking and controversial topic discussion. When there is a video, play the music for atmosphere or clip for reference. Enjoy! ~ Fear Itself)

"Mr. Holt?" The captain met eyes with the doctor. "Peralta wants to see you first." Raymond was quite surprised to hear this, he assumed he'd be towards the end of people that Jake wished to see. After taking a bullet for Amy, he ended up in the hospital, the metal just being short of his upper rib cage. Jacob survived but would have to be here a bit, making Holt feel slightly guilty of the massive paperwork he'll have to finish as soon as he returns.

"Peralta?" Holt quietly opened the door, as to not frighten the half-asleep detective.

"Sup cap?"

"Are you feeling alright? Want me to get you anything?"

"I'm a bit woozy, numb and sore but other than that just generally tired. Did anything funny happen while I was out?"

"Among us, no, we've all been here for the past several hours on our phones or reading. Though Charles claimed to see someone trip over their shoelaces on his way back from the bathroom and Gina laughed at something called Vine? She wouldn't let me watch one, saying it wouldn't be my kind of humor."

"Oh ya, those things are great. Wanna see one?"

"Sure." Holt almost certainly had no interest in this but searched up the 'Talk dirty to me vine' on his unused Google account.

"I'm not sorry." The captain's face blanked at the sight of this.

"What have society come to?"

"The lowest point that's what. I'm proud to call myself a liberal follower, though I do vote conservative." Jacob replied, thankfully turning off the phone before he probably ended up burning the old man's eyes. "Anyway, when should I be able to go back to work?"

"Maybe a week or two? For now, you should rest."

"A week or two? I still have my dad's case to finish!"

"You took a bullet for someone, I think he'll be proud of you. I could get Amy or Rosa to work the case for you though."

"No no, I'll just talk to him about it first."

"Your dad is here now, would you like me to bring him in?" Holt noticed hesitation in his eyes, but he agreed.

"Tell the crew they can go now, I'll talk with Amy later but I just wanna sleep." Covering him back up with the blanket, he replied.

"Very well, your dad will be here in a couple of minutes."

"Cool cool cool, thanks, Cap." Holt never knew what to say for goodbyes, so he wordlessly closed the door behind him.

"How'd it go?" Amy asked, looking up from the ground.

"Good, wanting to go back to work as usual but quite tired still. His dad's visiting him but then he's going to nap again. He promised he'd speak with Amy later."

"Oh ok then. Though speaking of his dad, isn't it a bit weird he didn't sit with us right?"

"Well, perhaps he didn't want to feel as if he was intruding on us?" Terry offered. But Holt, despite his associate's logical deduction, thought it was strange himself.

"Who knows, but Jake did say that we could leave now."

"You sure? At least me, you and his dad could stay." Amy mentioned.

"No, we can visit a couple of times tomorrow. It's late and we should all get some sleep."

"It's only 10'o clock."

"Exactly right Gina." The captain yawned and reluctantly, everyone began saying goodbye, filing out. The girls appeared to be leaving together, most likely to get a drink, Charles somberly left alone and Terry was busy on the phone with his wife. Holt vowed never to speak with her again since he seemed to only cause chaos for them, even with the best intentions.

"Look I'll do better next time ok?" Holt's eyes darted to the source of the sound, the hospital room of Jake.

"You will, what's at stake is something you don't want to lose." Now curious, he couldn't help but eavesdrop.

"Alright I'll try again, I got one more chance before..."

"Ya, but make it quick, two weeks top or else I'm doing the deed myself."

"Very well da- er sir."

"Damn straight, don't even try calling me that again." Hearing Jake's dad stand up, he quickly began speed-walking down the hall before he heard a voice.

"Captain Holt." Turning around he locked eyes with the other.

"Captain Roger Peralta." Staring down each other, the two went unblinking for several moments. What was going on inside that man's head? They turned around and went to their separate destinations.

Paranoia began to consume Raymond Holt.

As expected, the girls didn't return home. Instead, the three-headed to the local dive bar, laughing and messing around.

"So you're saying you can drink a whole BOTTLE of Vodka in one go?" Rosa asked.

"Hell ya, I'm Gina with a G for go!"

"Bad idea dipshit, we've got work tomorrow."

"Too lattttte!" She began chugging the entire glass bottle, smashing it onto the ground once finished.

"Your gunna be hungover..."

"So are you."

"GUYS!" The two turned over to face Amy, who was scribbling down notes in a journal, the pages lightly stained with an unknown assortment of drinks.

"Do you think 911 was staged?"

"Huh?" Rosa asked, hovering over the notebook to find random notes on controversial topics.

"Or what about the moon landing? Does Area 51 actually have aliens or is the government just paranoid? I bet you all those godforsaken democrats are trying to liberalize the country so they can dominate over our rotting corpses!"

"Amy chill the fuck out." To Rosa's dismay, Gina was taking photos.

"What I figured out seven drink Amy after all this time, she becomes a theorist."

"What this isn't *burp* 7 drink Amy..." The two gave Amy a look of concern.

"How much alcohol have you had tonight?"

"10..."

"10 what...?"

"Bo *burp* OTTLES." Gina and Rosa looked at each other before meeting eyes with Amy, who was back to writing theories.

"Dude like did you know weed saved us in World War 2...?"

"Yep time to go home, despite our better judgment, we're supposed to be against that."

"Well, who's driving?"

"I've had five shots," Rosa replied.

"Then it's you, I've had nine." On three, the girls picked up Amy.

"Alright Amy let me see that notebook," Gina said, hoping to find light blackmail material inside. But she held it closer to her chest.

"No! You're a liberal! You'll take me to the stupid leaders and have me executed!"

"Dio Christo the worst I'll do is use it to get some food off you." She managed to pry it out of her hands before placing her in the back of the car as she slowly drifted off to sleep, cursing Obama's name to the winds. Once they began driving, Gina mindlessly paged through the book, laughing at her strange rambling.

"Anything interesting in there?"

"Ya, get this! 10 drink Amy thinks that your webcam will listen for keywords and send you advertisements based off of your conversations."

"Woah that's freaky, and not even far from unrealistic too."

"Oh, and FaceBook will apparently mark the faces of people who don't even have an account, making them a shadow profile and learn as much as they can about them." It went silent as she turned the page when she suddenly gasped.

"What did you find?"

"Facebook knows my sexuality? I DON'T EVEN KNOW THAT!"

"Chill out you don't have FaceBook so they might not know."

"Shadow profiles?"

"Right... We should try to get Amy off FaceBook." Towards the end of her messy writing, she found something much stranger.

**I think Jake was actively looking for someone to protect.**

Confused, Gina closed the book an stared out the window into the endless black night. 10 drink Amy was just drunk, right?


	2. Carousel of Agony

(The decent to madness begins. Last chance to turn away if you don't wish to be possibly disturbed. If you stay that's not on me. Just enjoy the ride! Trigger warnings for suicide implications and major cursing.)

When Peralta returned from his medical leave Holt sensed something was off about the usual laid back demeanor he carried himself with.

Cold.

Why would Jacob "My life will hopefully become Die Hard" Peralta, be cold? As he entered his office, his smile almost seemed forced. But no, that's to cliche for him.

"Welcome back detective."

"Thanks, sir, should I finish anything before going back to my dad's case?"

"I've got a bit of paperwork, nothing too unmanageable." About a foot tall stack of papers ended up in his arms.

_"Oh fuck me gently with a chainsaw, can't you just give this to Amy? You know how much she loves this kind of thing!"_

_"Just get out of my office."_

_"Yep going..."_

"Alright, I'll get started right away." Without another word, the younger left the room.

If this was anyone else, Holt might've just shrugged it off, looking back to the sea of fires he had to put out. But the usually bright flame of Jake seemed to run dark. Perhaps it was his eyes playing tricks on him, Holt decided to reason. But a nagging voice in his head told him to pay attention, or else the flare may burn out...

"Ray-Ray!" Looking up from his trance, Gina held a phone out to him. "The commissioner wants to talk to you." Swallowing back his responsibilities, concerns for Jake's wellbeing that probably aren't even called for took over the captains mind.

"Tell the commissioner to screw off, I've got an important case."

"Case? Something you'd tell the COMMISSIONER off for? Want me to help?"

"Yes please."

"Alright give me a second... Ya no, Holt says you can go fuck yourself... Ok bye~!" Gina hung up the phone, sweetly glancing back to the captain.

"I said screw off, not tell him to fuck himself."

"Let me have a bit of fun before something serious! Anywho what's up? Another mass shooting?"

"No, it's about Peralta..."

"Hold up, Jake is a serial killer!?"

"What no! Chill out Gina or you're off the case."

"Ok fine..."

"Well has Jake been acting a bit... distant... to you?"

"Oh thank god I'm not the only one. Want proof?"

"Anything to make my claims not true would be great but I guess whatever will get me to the truth." Gina dug through her purse and pulled out a notebook, reeking of bile and beer.

"This is Amy's from last night. 10 drink Amy writes theories about literally everything. I learned two important things from her drunken rambles. One, Amy has some deep grudges against FaceBook. For example-"

"Just cut to the chase."

"Two, Jake might have been actively looking for someone to protect."

"Well duh, isn't that our job?"

"I got something different from this, he was actively looking for a bullet to block." Holt gave Gina a blank look.

"Um your crazy, Jake would never do something like that. Terry MIGHT but no one in the 99 would just be searching for a shooter in need of getting themselves hurt."

"Well dunno, that's all I've got. Keep an eye on him, but don't come off as overbearing, you'll seem suspicious."

"Ok, thanks though."

"No problem!"

"Wait, Gina."

"Hm?"

"Call the commissioner back, tell him you deeply apologize than get me on the phone with him I was just mad in the heat of the moment."

"Really come on! You could've left it at that and seemed really badass."

"Linetti..."

"Ya ya whatever."

The days went on. Paranoia began getting comfortable in Holt's core. He acted normal enough, but for a man who's entire career was mainly spent seeing through the facades of his colleges, the captain took note of the deep battle in his mind. Whatever for he could never predict, so Holt, of course, wanted to talk to Jake about it. He needed an opening or an excuse. Holt couldn't get an opening as Jake was always off talking with someone or absorbed in his work from dawn to dusk. The latter was what Holt got on that particular Friday. Though wasn't the kind of excuse he needed.

_Every day now, I sit with this sinking feeling in my stomach._

_But I finally understand what it is._

_**Loss**_

_**It's the sickness in everyone's hearts**_

_Some may think they you'll never experience __Loss_

_Though you never realize you see it whenever you go outside_

_The people around you all have some sort of __Loss __on there conscious_

_And one day you'll feel it too._

_Whether it be big or small, __Loss_ _will happen._

_But when it happened to me, I couldn't pull myself together._

_I know I'm weak_

_I know you're stronger_

_**I know I'm the sickness in your heart**_

_But unlike me, I know you can survive in the event of_

_**Loss**_

J. Peralta

Shatter! Holt's stomach dropped as his eyes met the paper, still warm from the heat of the printer. It almost burned, as if the ink were meant to pierce his fingers. Then suddenly it all clicked. He put himself in the danger of a bullet because he wanted to kill himself. Bile rose up against his throat and Holt felt nauseous every time he glanced down at the paper.

"Hellooo? Earth to Holt?" Shaking him back to reality, Jake smiled and relief filled Holt's mind. "You ended up dropping your cup and it shattered to a million pieces. Is everything all- oh... um... this feels nice..."

"Phew, I thought you were dead," Whispered the captain to Jake who was now trapped in a hug. He could feel the latter's heartbeat pick up, trying to squirm out his grasp.

"Don't be ridiculous. I'm alive and well."

"Meet me in my office in 60 seconds."

"But I've gotta go, a lead on my dad's case..."

"You can go after." Letting go, he brought the note to Gina's desk. "Read, comprehend, and pray."

"Pray? I serve no higher power... other than maybe Beyonce or- Oh... oh god... is that what I think it is?"

"Yes, I'm going to talk to him now."

"Do whatever it takes..."

"I would do no less." As Holt dashed for his office, he closed the blinds and waited. Meanwhile, Gina rested her head on the desk, tears filling the women's eyes. How long has it been since she's cried? Two years, five years, a decade? The phone started ringing she ignored it, thousands of thoughts racing through her mind.

"Won't someone please pick up the goddamn- Gina?" Terry ended up by the foot of her desk, looking down in concern. "Woah you ok?"

"Never been worse." She grumbled as Amy took notice.

"Well, what's wrong? If your crying it must be bad."

"It is... but I can't say."

"Huh why?" Amy asked.

"Because I have the decency and respect to keep this quiet. If I don't it will cause more problems than solve them."

"Gina come on, were the 99! You can tell us anything."

"IT involves the 99!"

"Oh... well shouldn't we know since we're in the 99?" Boyle asked, now curious as to what's going on. Gina finally looked up, glaring the crowd around her desk.

"How about you mind your own business and be patient. You'll get answers soon enough." They all went silent until Terry noticed Jake passing by.

"Jake! Um, can we get a bit of help over here?" He didn't even bother to glance, just puffed the collar of his leather jacket and kept walking.

"Is it about Peralta?" Gina nodded her head back on the table. The prescient couldn't help but wonder what the hell was going on today...


	3. He Breaks

(One of the darkest chapters in this book, I'd say turn away but you're already so deep in I don't see why you should. Holt is broken, Gina is scared, and Jake can't help but wonder if he'll live to see the daylight. Trigger warnings for suicide, abuse, light torture, and angst. Shit loads of angst)

Dread loomed over the shoulders of Raymond Holt. Out the cracks of the windows, he could see the detectives gathered around Gina's desk, the poor girl just trying to keep it all together. Finally, Jake passed by, face down. Was it just him or did Rosa shiver when he brushed by her?

"You wanted to see me, sir?"

"Ah yes, um close the door behind you." He nodded slightly and did so before taking a seat. Looking visibly tense, Jake absentmindedly fidgeted with the hem of his jacket.

"So what made you believe I was dead Captain, I've been bound to my desk for the past three days."

"I found this in the printer." Holt handed him the note.

"Oh um, this is my sister's suicide note, I wanted to print out a copy."

"You don't have a sister, Peralta."

"Damnit, should've gone with my dad's mistress..." He took a couple of deep breaths before continuing. "Fine that's my suicide note, what's it to you?"

"You're not just my best detective. You're also... you're also like a son to me... I apologize if it seems unprofessional but I can't bear to lose you."

"It's alright... Anywho this has been great but I gotta get going, no telling the others right? Yep cool cool cool see ya later-"

"No, sit back down. Your case can wait."

"Look I answered your question, what else do you need?"

"I just want to help. If you'd like I can give you a couple of days off and call you a therapist or I could get your dad here-" Jacob's eyes widened and his breath halted. Did he just pinpoint the problem? Just emotionally overwhelmed right now... or at least that's why he'd like to think.

"No! Whatever you do, do NOT call him."

"Ok then... Is something wrong between-" Holt cut himself off when he noticed Jake panic. "Woah it's fine, you're in my office, you're safe, just breathe." Jake fixated his gaze at the dark wood finish of the desktop and grabbed onto the captain's wrist, digging his nails into his skin. Moments passed as he got ahold of himself, loosening his grip.

"I didn't want to..."

"Didn't want to what?"

"Kill myself!" Unexpectedly, he lost control of his emotions for a second.

"Then tell me why there's a godforsaken SUICIDE NOTE in my printer JACOB!"

"Because I've got people to protect. You, Amy, the prescient, I'm not letting them die if I can do something about it." It was in that moment Holt peeled off the final layer to the truth of his favorite detective. And he was... scared... to say the least...

"Are you in some sort of... hostage situation?"

"I suppose if you'd want to call it that."

"Well tell us who the perp is, or give us the files. I'll have the entire squad and more after whoever they are."

"See that's where the problem is... it's..." He trailed off, his heart rate picking up again. Ray ended up guiding Jake to the couch where he curled his knees to his chest but lost balance and his head landed on him.

"Please I just need a name Peralta, I can get you and the squad bodyguards or set you up in a safe house and get the FBI on the case. Just give me a name."

"Roger... Roger Peralta." Silence. The truth hung a noose on the captain and he could feel his airflow stop for a moment.

"Tell me your lying... tell me he isn't a criminal... hell, tell me you just set this up for the attention!"

"No, I couldn't come up with this if I wanted to. I'm sorry for tangling you into this... Ya, I should just go, if I kill myself now, maybe he won't harm the squad." Jake began standing up again but Holt shook his head.

"None of us are going to get hurt. We're the 99. We've got each other's backs." He stopped for a breath before finishing. "Does your fath- does Roger know where you live?"

"Ya."

"Well, then you can stay at my place until this settles over if you'd like."

"Huh? Are you sure I'm not intruding? I've still got about 6 days until he comes knocking on my door, and-"

"6 days?"

"After the bullet thing, he gave me two more weeks to kill myself. Or else he murders me and anyone in the squad who gets even the slightest bit too close to the truth."

"Oh, so you staged the bullet taking?"

"The entire case actually... I wanted to go out heroically so I made a fake case in which I'd be shot. Of course, he missed, so now I have to go out in a much more depressing way."

"You're not gonna have to die, I swear we'll arrest him and keep everyone else alive."

"But there's going to be a price, it should be my life when this is all my fault."

"No don't blame your-"

"Self? Well, maybe I could've stopped him. I became a cop with one of my top goals being to arrest my father. I should've known I'm too pathetic and weak to stop him. But now someone's going to spill their blood for this. How about return to sender, me." The eerie silence pierced the air once more.

"How about we just head home so you can get some sleep?"

"I don't need to sleep. Sure I'm tired, but I'm hustling and that's all that matters!"

"Peralta."

"I don't know about sleep, it's summertime!"

"Jacob..."

"What!"

"No fighting it. Once you've slept and eaten a good, non-orange-soda added meal, we can work the case."

"You mean Roger's?"

"As in the one where he gets arrested? Yes."

"M'kay..." Before they left the office, Holt offered Jake a glass of water with some Melatonin pills to take. Shortly after, the duo left the room.

"Hey, where are you two going? It's unlike you to off work like this sir."

"We've got matters to take care of elsewhere. You're in charge Terry."

"Oh um ok." They could almost feel the eyes staring them down, but thankfully the elevator door peeled them off.

"Hey, cap...?" Holt looked up in surprise, it's been about 20 minutes in the car and he assumed Peralta was out cold this entire time.

"Yes, Jake?"

"Can I vent for a sec?" His voice seemed like he was in a completely different world. Despite how rude it will be deemed later, he agreed.

"Of course."

"Well my dad had a system; Cheat on his current wife, if she gets pregnant and doesn't abort, he'll come visit whenever said mistress needs money and do her, then stay for about a week and whenever the mom is gone, abuse the kid." Holt's throat tightened but he had to keep listening, anything against Roger was necessary. "Sometimes it wouldn't be so bad, a simple beating or withdrawal of food. When he was really angry, he'd do me for hours at a time, or tie me up to a chair on the roof and leave me there till dark. Once it got so windy outside the chair ended up falling off the roof and I went all the way down to the next balcony. I suppose why I'm so deathly afraid of heights..." Jake chuckled and quiet anger brewed in Holt. The moment Jake called him sir, he knew he shouldn't have trusted him. "Well I shouldn't complain, some of the others were driven to suicide in their teen years by him. He's a bit off in the head I guess..." His voice trailed off and he snored softly once again.

"That sick son of a bitch," He muttered as his grasp on the steering wheel got tighter. Holt wasn't sure how to describe it, but when he looked at Jacob, he knew from his core and beyond he had to protect him. Fatherly love perhaps? The captain shrugged off the thought as he pulled into his driveway, picking him up, and walking him into the house.

"Raymond, your back- oh... didn't know we'd be having company..."

"Ya, I'll explain later. Maybe have some mac'n'cheese ready for when he awakens?"

"Alright..." He brought him up the stairs and into the guest bedroom. Once in the bed, Holt brought the guest care package and put it on his coffee table; a set of pj's with toothbrush/paste and slippers. Covering him with the blanket, Holt smiled lightly. For the first time since his dad came into town, he looked at peace. And that was good enough for now...

"So you're telling me his abusive father is trying to stage his suicide for... no reason what's so ever?"

"Look I know it seems farfetched but you've gotta trust me."

"Raymond..."

"Kevin, just trust me. I've gotta keep him safe. If he dies, that's on me and I don't want that on my conscious..."

"The authority's won't blame you dear."

"That's not my concern, I care so much for him. A world without Jacob Peralta would be a nightmare..." As Kevin opened his mouth to speak, a faint scream could be heard.

"You should..."

"Ya, I'll go check up with him." Holt made his way up the wooden stairs, them creaking as he went higher and higher up. Once he reached a door, he knocked softly.

"Peralta? Is everything ok in there...?"

No answer.

"Jacob... Can you hear me?" He knocked louder.

No answer.

"I'm going to open this door on the count of three."

No answer.

"One... two... three!" He turned the knob and took in his surroundings. His eyes widened at the sight.

"Oh god... OH GOD NO!"


	4. God Complex

(Second to last. Tensions run high among the 99. Trigger warnings for abuse, suicide, neglect, and self-blaming.)

"Oh god... OH GOD NO!" One loaded gun, one bloody knife, and an open window awaited Holt at the doorstep.

**No Jacob**

Panicked, he checked out the window, once again no Jacob. Perhaps he wasn't dead. But Holt knew better than to live in a fantasy. Well that was until he found the note.

"He's mine to break." The crumpled up paper did nothing to calm the captains overactive nerves.

"Raymond! What happened I heard a scream."

"He's gone... I think someone took him." As the thoughts settled through his mind, he began running on instinct alone. "I've gotta get the squad... I've gotta save Jake!" Holt rushed down the stairs, ignoring the countless wrinkles that scattered his uniform, his lack of a tie, and unprofessional demeanor.

"Wait lets think rationally about this. Maybe you should think of a plan tonight. Besides isn't the squad already home."

"Most of them don't sleep and work extra hours."

"That's unhealthy."

"And a concern for later, get me my keys." Kevin nodded and got them off the side table. He couldn't help but wonder why he cares about this detective so much.

Moments later he was on the road, the darkness slowly engulfing his car and his hope. He took the paid highway and went well over the speed limit (a whole five miles!) Sure he was the scum of the Earth but he'd be damned if that excuse of a father laid a finger in Jacob ever again. Pulling up onto the department, he made his way up, praying some of the squad stayed late. The second the elevator door opened he ran out.

"They took him!"

"Huh who?" The entire prescient looked up in surprise to see the captain looking this distraught.

"Jake! His dad has been driving his kids to suicide for years now and now he's gonna kill him oh god what have I done-"

"Raymond slow down. We'll go after him, just breathe and debrief the squad. They can do the rest from there." He met Gina's gaze and attempted to get ahold of himself. It's his job to make sure the 99 stays mature, not keep him in check. Gasping for breath he swallowed back every voice in his head telling him to panic.

"Can someone just explain where the hell Jake is?"

"Shut it Amy you'll know when you need to. For now, Terry start looking for files on Roger Peralta-"

"You aren't the one giving orders around here. For now, Terry start looking for files on Roger Peralta."

"Ok... what did he do?"

"Most recently kidnapped Jake."

"He took his own son? Why?"

"No clue, supposedly just mad out of his mind."

"Look brief us, sir, if we treat this as a normal case we'll be able to go farther."

"Of course... I apologize for reacting out of line."

"It's alright, we can figure this out." While the group gathered in the next room, Holt collected security footage. Despite his moral compass, he compiled it not caring if Jake would be mad or not. Once finished, Holt put his thoughts together and entered the room, anxious eyes on him.

"I'll get straight to the point. Earlier today I found a suicide note in the printer, that of Jacob Peralta." He pulled out his copy and handed it to Amy who was at the front of the room. "Good news, Jacob isn't suicidal. Bad news, his father is crazed and will stop at nothing to make sure he is dead. Of course, this does include killing any of us in his way." Unease filled the prescient, and Holt decided to turn on the film he got.

_"Look I answered your question, what else do you need?"_

_"I just want to help. If you'd like I can give you a couple of days off and call you a therapist or I could get your dad here-" _

_"No! Whatever you do, do NOT call him." _

_"Ok then... Is something wrong between- Woah it's fine, you're in my office, you're safe, just breathe." _

_"I didn't want to..."_

_"Didn't want to what?"_

_"Kill myself!" _

_"Then tell me why there's a godforsaken SUICIDE NOTE in my printer JACOB!"_ Gina visibly tensed at the captain's strange unprecedented anger.

_"Because I've got people to protect. You, Amy, the prescient, I'm not letting them die if I can do something about it." _That's where the squad got curious, the feeling twisting their gut into a knot.

_"Are you in some sort of... hostage situation?"_

_"I suppose if you'd want to call it that."_

_"Well tell us who the perp is, or give us the files. I'll have the entire squad and more after whoever they are."_

_"See that's where the problem is... it's..." _

_"Please I just need a name Peralta, I can get you and the squad bodyguards or set you up in a safe house and get the FBI on the case. Just give me a name."_

_"Roger... Roger Peralta." _ It all came rushing back to Holt. He could've done better. He could've saved Jacob Peralta.

_"Tell me your lying... tell me he isn't a criminal... hell, tell me you just set this up for the attention!"_

_"No, I couldn't come up with this if I wanted to. I'm sorry for tangling you into this... Ya, I should just go, if I kill myself now, maybe he won't harm the squad." _

_"None of us are going to get hurt. We're the 99. We've got each other's backs." He stopped for a breath before finishing. "Does your fath- does Roger know where you live?"_

_"Ya."_

_"Well, then you can stay at my place until this settles over if you'd like."_

_"Huh? Are you sure I'm not intruding? I've still got about 6 days until he comes knocking on my door, and-"_

_"6 days?"_

_"After the bullet thing, he gave me two more weeks to kill myself. Or else he murders me and anyone in the squad who gets even the slightest bit too close to the truth." _Disgust filled Terry's glossy eyes.

_"Oh, so you staged the bullet taking?"_

_"The entire case actually... I wanted to go out heroically so I made a fake case in which I'd be shot. Of course, he missed, so now I have to go out in a much more depressing way."_

_"You're not gonna have to die, I swear we'll arrest him and keep everyone else alive."_

_"But there's going to be a price, it should be my life when this is all my fault."_

_"No don't blame your-"_

_"Self? Well, maybe I could've stopped him. I became a cop with one of my top goals being to arrest my father. I should've known I'm too pathetic and weak to stop him. But now someone's going to spill their blood for this. How about return to sender, me?"_

Holt paused the video and the squad began whispering, wondering what just happened. "Jacob also openly admitted to me in the car that he neglected and abused him physically, emotionally, and sexually. I brought him back to my place so he could sleep a bit easier but when I heard a scream from the guest room, I ran up there and found nothing but a loaded gun, a bloody knife, and a slip of paper saying he's mine to break. I'm lead to believe Roger found out somehow and took him before any of us began an investigation. Does anyone have any ideas?"

Red. His hands, bound by chains we're Red. The voices in his head grew louder by the hour. Or was it minute? He lost the flow of time a bit ago. Now it was silence or pain. Lots of pain. Every time the door opened, the shards of his hope began to dust away. No one can hear him. No one can see him. The pain that he brought was the only signal he was still alive. All he wanted was to see his real dad again. But would he even accept him after being so weak? Part of his mind knew the squad was after him, though he still felt unsettled.

_He didn't want to be saved, he wanted to be set _

_**Free**_

Amy's fingers never left the keyboard as she spiraled deeper and deeper into her research hole. Any evidence of Roger Peralta's existence has been wiped clean. All she knew was that he works as a pilot and had no connections to social media. Tracing him to texting histories only brought the basic and the vague. Right now, Rosa and Terry, the most stable yet competent in the group currently, we're searching for any possibly shady associates at the airline.

"Santiago?"

"Oh uh yes captain?"

"Have you found anything on Roger yet?"

"No sir, I've been going through texts I'm lead to believe is his which are borderline gibberish. Other than that, he's invisible... Well perhaps not that, he's nowhere yet everywhere. I've never seen a criminal go to such lengths to stay in the shadows."

"Did he... did he send anything to Jacob?"

"Cryptic suicide and death threats at best, something probably much darker written in mystic runes and codes at worst. Jake rarely replied, and if he did he never replied in English, only in the indecipherable codes. He used a basic version of the runic alphabet with other untraceable colleagues."

"What's this about a runic alphabet?" Rosa asked, dragging Terry along with her.

"Your back so soon? What happened?" Holt asked.

"Got a friend of his to talk, I got an address. The supposed base where Roger does his illegal practices. He has a couple of loyal men but shove a gun down their throats and they'll gladly spill then choke on the metal. I left him to be dealt with by other cops but he's gonna most likely end up in the WPP. He also claims that Roger has insanity and DID related issues."

"Well, what are waiting for? Let's go!" Amy replied, already on her way to get ready.

"Hold on, what if it's a trap?" Terry questioned.

"Your right. Shouldn't we look into the place captain?" He went quiet, unfocused from the rest of the group. "Well?"

"Earth is hell. A ticking bomb just moments from exploding. Now just imagine navigating the flames without Jacob." Holt took a pause, allowing the thought to settle in before continuing. "Roger could already be torturing him! If he dies we will all suffocate at the guilt that we couldn't stop one crazed man. We're the 99 goddamnit. If we can't save him, then can we be trusted with the rest of Brooklyn? Without him it's like part of the group is gone. So we're going to go out there and save him before it's too late!" He put out his hand, now examining the detectives in front of him. "99?"

"99!"


	5. Failure DetectiveDisappointment

(Everything we built up for all crumbles into it's purest form. Pray for the good ending. Trigger warnings for torture mentions, suicide, self-loathing, graphic violence, and graphic character death.)

His throat was dry. Ok, perhaps that was an understatement, his throat burned. It begged for any sort of liquid to drip down the back. The blood weeping down his face didn't satisfy his desire.

"Why am I so greedy? Shouldn't I just be thankful I'm alive?" Randomly scattered memories flashed through his mind as he let his eyes close. But of course, no sleep came. Sir was pumping him with pills to keep him awake. Fixating his droopy gaze at his hands, he could barely see the skin anymore. Blue bruises and crimson blood covering the base.

"Jacob?" He looked up slightly, of course, he was back.

"What now?" The words barely managed to leave his mouth.

"Oh don't talk to me like that! Today is your lucky day." He pulled out a lighter and grabbed a container from the other side. "You finally get to die!" Pouring something behind him, his chair was moved foward. "I'm going to burn down this building and start over fresh at life. A new identity, new family. Maybe things will turn out better this time..." Jake's heart started pounding as he turned on the lighter. "Welp cya in hell!" Roger emptied the bottle before lighting the gasoline on fire and the room warmed up

The door was closed behind him.

*ᚠᛁᚠᛏᛖᛖᚾ ᛗᛁᚾᚢᛏᛖᛋ ᚨᚾᛞ ᛏᚹᛖᚾᛏᚤ-ᛏᚹᛟ ᛋᛖᚲᛟᚾᛞᛋ ᛒᛖᚠᛟᚱᛖ ᛃᚨᚲᛟᛒ ᛈᛖᚱᚨᛚᛏᚨ'ᛋ ᛞᛖᚨᛏᚺ*

The warehouse they found was in bad condition. Mildew scaled up with warm metal walls and the air was almost hard to breathe as if tainted with poison. Rosa told them that guards dressed as cops were to be expected but no one was there strangely enough.

"You sure this is the right place?" Charles asked, staring up and down for windows.

"Ya, unless it IS a trap. But the guy seemed pretty eager to get Roger arrested. Whatever, the guards can't stay the entire time. It's just a warehouse." Rosa replied. The door was thankfully unlocked making their job easier.

"Alright everyone at their positions. I'll infiltrate the base alongside Rosa and Terry, Charles and Amy will come as a back-up if they try to run. You two focus on apprehending Roger, I'll make sure Jacob returns outside safely." They nodded and Holt quietly pushed the door open, with a clear coast they made a dash in, hiding behind some boxes. At the front of the main room, he spotted some associates with Roger.

"Are you sure you want to burn the entire building down sir? It would really cause some attention with those nine nine cops."

"I've told you a million times I'm starting over! I'm going to burn down every bit of evidence Roger Peralta even existed. My name is Thomas C. Rickett, my favorite color is blue, I own a 1998 Volkswagen Parati, I'm 48 years young, and I work at Sports Unlimited as their termite control technician. Obscure enough for ya?"

"Well, sir I just don't know why you feel you need to burn Jacob alive. He hasn't tried contacting you in years and never told anyone about you until you interjected yourself back into his life."

"Gotta tie up my loose ends. I already got Ms. Karen taking care of, now I just gotta finish him. Are you going to keep wasting my time with pointless questions?"

"WHY DID YOU EVEN START DOING THIS, TO BEGIN WITH?" Holt decided to give the crew the order to move as he seemed distracted but the man who yelled now had a gun in his mouth.

"What we do in this world doesn't need any rhyme or reason. I like to think we live on another plane of reality where no one questions our actions because it's cheap entertainment. I mean why else do people like the Kardashian's or cop comedies? Society won't care in the long term that Jake is dead, because they'll just say it was a sad story well written."

"YOUR INSANE!" One loud sound and it was done.

"Sure I am, what's your point?" Holt forced himself to act professionally as he jumped up from behind a stack.

"NYPD HANDS ABOVE YOUR HEAD!" A hint of a smile crossed his face as Roger's eyes widened in fear. Picking up a gasoline container, he gave chase down the hall. Raymond attempted to go after him but felt a blade trace his skin.

"Where do ya think yer going? Yer the one who has an ax to grind with the boss right?"

"Whatsit to you?" He struggled out of the gruff guy's grasp, but someone who is built to be a celebrity escort is someone you don't wanna mess with.

"Just gotta slit yer throat before the boss gets mad at me..."

"Cut the pirate talk loser, and pick on someone your own size!" The two turned to Terry who confidently mocked his facial expressions.

"You little..." Holt was dropped to the ground and the other two began to fight.

"We're only one wrestling weight class apart you know!"

"Just go!" Terry replied, pointing to the hall Roger ran down. He did so but one glance made his heart sink. Which door did he go through? Maybe if he figured out where he started the fire, he could go from there. Feeling each of the door, the corridor seemed to stretch forever. Was Jake even here, did he start the fire outside and completely missed where Roger ran off to? The infinite hallway made for infinite worries which started knawing at what little sanity he had left. Finally, Holt hit a dead end.

"Roger come out, let's talk this out!" Leaning against the door frame, he felt his back warm-up. First, he didn't really notice, he just wanted a confession but when he could hear flames hissing behind the door, he quickly swung it open. No, he didn't find Roger, but he did find something much better.

"Jacob!" He tried looking up to face him, but he didn't even have the strength as the blaze nipped at his neck. Down his face and to his tattered clothes, blood dripped. Through it all, you can see bruises and cut if you were to squint. How could he do that much torture to someone so fast?

It's been less than 12 hours and he already broke him.

How much worse this hellish nightmare world was as a child was a question he wasn't sure he'd want the answer to.

"It's gonna be ok, I'm going to get you out of here." Untying the stiff rope, he got him on his feet, though he just ended up putting all his weight on Holt.

"The second you look away I'm gonna disappear... for good this time." Jake's grip got tighter on his shirt. His gaze met Ray's, looking red and unnatural as if he were high. "Just don't let go, dad..." Accompanied with a sad smile, he nodded.

"Of course not." Getting him down the painfully long hallway, the two didn't speak. About halfway through, his breathing got heavier. "Jake is something-"

"I didn't expect you'd hear me, Jacob." He was now standing without Holt's support, knife in one hand, stab wound on the other. Where the hell did Roger even come from!

"You're letting the other's live, try stabbing Holt again and see what happens!" Jake shouted.

"You'll do nothing. I mean you could've stopped this entire thing. Arrested me back from the start, actually told someone what happened to you. Or better yet killed yourself before you were put under the impression people cared about you! Even when I'm dead it'll be just the beginning. They will all see how much of a screw up you are and eat you alive! Rip every fiber of personality you had until your just an empty shell. A fail-"

"Shut up... SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP!" With every time he spoke, the line became more desperate, almost like a mantra as the knife in his hand was pushed in out of Roger's body until he ceased to speak. And all Holt could do was watch as Jake unleashed almost 35 years of pent up rage and hatred in the blade and finally returned it all to the chilling corpse. Abruptly, he stopped. "Oh god, what have I done...?" Peralta backed away slowly meanwhile Raymond had no words. What was he supposed to say in a situation like this? He turned to face Jake but he was already gone, adrenaline keeping him on his feet.

"Wait come back!" On his way down the next half, it didn't seem to endless thankfully. Back in the main room, he turned to Amy who was the closest one to him.

"I saw Jake run outside, what's going on?"

"He did? Ok, thanks!"

"Captain, hold on a sec!" But he was already outside. Truth be told, Jake was leaning against the wall, holding the stab wound on his hand.

"Geez don't do that, just because you can run doesn't mean you should." He took another deep breath before speaking.

"Go away."

"Jake no, an ambulance should be here soon and I'm staying by your side until it does."

"I said go away..."

"That was in self-defense. It wasn't murder or manslaughter." In reality, he wasn't really sure but he just needed to calm him down.

"Fine don't, then I'm sorry for what you have to see." That was all it took, a single word, a single swift motion, his entire life, his entire legacy, was just summed up in one stab to the throat.

"Jacob...? Jacob tell me this isn't true." Holt grabbed his hand and Jake squeezed back. The two met eyes as tried to keep as much life in his body as possible. Despite the denial intertwined with his thoughts, he tore through and barely managed to choke out.

"It's alright, rest now. You've done well son..." A quiet, dim smile crossed his lips before his grip began to loosen. The process was slow, and Holt still had a million things to say. Yet he couldn't form the words as Jake's eyes, once glittering with life and joy, slowly faded out leaving two dead, cold orbs in there place. As blood circulation began to cut out in the shut down of every system in his body, he couldn't help but wonder if Jake had even been happy this entire time. Did dread loom over his desk every single day as he pondered if today would be the day the reaper tipped the hourglass? But in the end, he decided that Jake pushed it all aside and lived a wild life full of dangerous cop missions and random pointless shanagins with his friends. Of course, he'd never know exactly, but it seemed about right.

"Sir, we apprehended all the guards. An ambulance will be here in a couple of minutes, is Jacob ok?"

"He's dead." The squad stopped in their tracks.

"Excuse me?" Amy asked.

"He's DEAD. See for yourself." He moved over and leaned against the wall, allowing the others to relish in his agony.

Every day, I sit with this sinking feeling in my stomach.

"Jake-ie? Jake-ie your not dead right?"

But I finally understand what it is.

"Jacob no... how!"

Loss.

"Oh god please undead yourself. I never got to tell you how much I loved you!"

It's the sickness in everyone's hearts.

Amy began doing CPR but Terry grabbed her wrist and pointed to the wound in his throat. That gasp could shatter glass.

Some may think they'll never experience Loss.

Charles leaned his head on Rosa's shoulder and burst out into ugly tears. "Did Roger do this? Tell me where he is! I'll beat his ass so bad that they'll be piecing him back together for weeks!"

Though you never realize it, you see it every time you go outside.

"Roger is already dead, Jacob killed him. Then he killed himself out of regret."

The people around you all have some sort of Loss on their conscious.

The four went silent, meeting gazes before turning back to Holt. But he didn't dare look at the others. He could've stopped this.

And one day, you'll feel it too.

As they wept, Holt noticed something, the sun was still out. I suppose the Earth sees Jake as not even a quarter of a blink in time. The Earth saw billions of years of silence, but now they are deaf to the significants some may have.

Whether it be big or small, Loss will happen.

Anguish started settling in with him, just one move of his hand and none of this would have ever happened.

But when it happened to me, I couldn't pull myself together.

Tears dripped down his face and onto his white collared shirt. Why did he ask Peralta to wear a tie so much? He worked better without one...

I know I'm weak.

Why didn't he push for an answer sooner? Why didn't he take action the moment he felt suspicious? Why did he care so much about just one detective?

I know you're stronger.

Why didn't he give him more praise? Why didn't he go watch Diehard with him three weeks ago? Why didn't he work that case with him?

I know I'm the sickness in your heart.

God, why didn't he just call him son a little bit more?

But unlike me, I know you can survive in the event of

Guilt began to consume Raymond Holt

Loss.

~~~End~~~

(About 8,423 words. 8-9 days of work. ? Amount of sad readers. Your welcome. Bonus chapter coming soon...)


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